Aura
by LYNN 08
Summary: Dave is desperate to escape his life of fame, but when he finally attempts to find a place to settle down, he is quite literally swept up again by something even more overwhelming. John Egbert. A Boy with the power to control air along with a mysterious past. Can Dave hold them together or will John's past tear them apart?


Hey there! I've been think of this story for a long time and I thought I would try my hand at writing it! As far as pairings go this story will be primarily JohnDave, but it will have some JohnKat and DaveKat fluff as well (but not exactly completely romantic relations or anything like that). If there are any problems with my grammar spelling or writing in this feel free to give some tips after all I'm not perfect ^^''. And with that let the story begin

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Chapter 1: New identity

Surprise and excitement are two things that you never experience. Many people would be shocked by this. You are Dave motherfucking Strider, a famous webcomic artist and writer, an internet sex icon and a successful D.J. For some reason this always meant something to all you're old 'friends' who randomly started liking you (even though they ignored you through high school), or the girls that you had knocked up in the past. True in the beginning this is what you strived for, but for some reason once you reached the top all this fame, the merchandise, the movie; they all stopped meaning anything. They weren't enough anymore, and now you were bored with this life.

From the bar stool you are sitting on you gaze across the room while the bartender readies your order. You see a man staring back at you from a window. The man, most likely in his mid-twenties, had striking reddish-brown eyes which bore into you, their gaze unyielding. He had thick black hair which was probably dyed, seeing as how his eyebrows were fairly lighter and the hair itself reflected a somewhat unnatural glow. The strangest thing about him though, had to be his skin, which rather than drawing the features of his face together, made them stand out making his face very plain and luminescent.

The bartender set your drink in front of you. He gives you an odd look before turning back to his work. You decide not to ponder on what could possibly be going through his head and continue your staring contest with the window man. You reach for your drink keeping yours eyes on the window. The man reaches as well, to an identical drink, on an identical bar, while sitting on an identical bar stool. That man, he could be anyone. Anyone Dave strider wants him to be.

"Hey, I get this feeling I know you from somewhere." The bartender says a little hesitantly "What's your name kid?"

"I'm no one."

"You just remind me of that guy they say went missing." The bartender paused thinking for a moment "I think his name was Dave something- OH! Right it was Dave Strider!"

You glance at the bartender before looking down at you drink. "Hmm, He sounds pretty cool," You say while choosing your next words carefully "sounds like we both have the same name, except my last name isn't nearly as stupid Strider."

None of your drink is gone but you don't care. You stand, place the money for the drink and promptly leave. The air is cool when you leave the bar, so you bundle yourself tighter into your coat while walking down the frosty sidewalk. Damn it. The last thing you wanted to hear was that fucking name. No matter where you went Dave Strider haunted you like a ghost. You were in fucking Washington D.C. and you couldn't escape it. The name lived in every cyber café, music store and tabloid magazine, of every town, of every state. You swear if you have to see or hear it one more time you're going to flip your shit. You can feel your anger boiling, you can barely contain it, and now you're going off the deep end-

"…help…"

You're snapped from your thoughts by most likely one you the most pitifully cries for help you had ever heard. You pause, wondering if it was real, before taking step.

"…help…please…"

Now you're starting to panic and that isn't cool, then again it isn't cool to leave people who sound like they're dying either. You step towards the voice trying to find where it's coming from.

"Help…"

There! You spot him! A boy, maybe about eighteen. He dark mopy hair, and fair skin, but that wasn't really what was sticking out to you at this point. He was covered in blood. Now you wonder why you couldn't smell it before. The smell was so strong. You squat next to the kid. His breathing is struggled and you aren't sure what to do.

"Who… who are you?" The boy whispers lifting an arm slightly before giving up and letting it drop.

"Don't worry, dude, I'm gonna call an ambulance." You say trying to calm him.

"No… no… don't" He replied quickly voice sounding a bit stronger. "I don't need they're help."

"Bro, you're covered in blood." You state matter-o-factly.

"Please… please… don't. " He whispers slipping into unconsciousness.

You sit there, longer than you probably should have, and against you better judgment leaned forward toward that black haired boy and scooped him up. It was strange, he was light and dainty like feather, and he wasn't bleeding from anywhere. All that was there were the blood and a hole in his light blue shirt which looked a lot like pajamas. He was probably cold you thought looking at his short sleeves (which were kind of inappropriate considering the weather). With that you had the brilliant idea of taking him back to the motel with you. After all, what could go wrong?


End file.
